


and then i see you and you are always out of reach

by orphan_account



Category: ATEEZ (Band), freeform - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Gen, Nightmares, No Romance, this is just a writing piece i did i just wanna post it okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:15:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27145781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "instead he pulls himself up,a herculean effort,because mingi can feel his knees ache and his lungs burn everytime he gets back up."
Relationships: None
Kudos: 3





	and then i see you and you are always out of reach

**Author's Note:**

> this is really just a little excerpt but wanted to someone else to see it so. here

mingi

sun breaking through the clouds. the cold,cold hiss of wind against his neck.  
pretty fingers on prettier paper. delicate words on even more delicate paper. mingi knows he's running out of time. he can see the time on the little clock standing on his desk. he knows this. he closes his eyes, breath caught in his chest. tik, tok.  
but he had the dream again last night. smoky and confusing, it had wrapped him up into his own head, kept him there far into the early hours of the morning. it had started like normal, like it always does. the dream mingi had had since he was 9 years old coming to him again at the age of 19, ten years later. it had come in the years between, of course, visiting him at 11, 14 and 17, respectively and many times that he doesn't recall, spanning the decade.   
his room had been cold when he woke, the open window being the culprit. mingi had closed and locked the window before he slept, but he didn't remember that, the only thing on his mind being THAT dream, THAT dream again as he twisted in the damp sheets. his hair stuck to his face in strands that he couldn't swipe away with his trembling fingers. loud breaths. shaky inhales. the tiny clock blinking 03:27.   
it had started like usual. small cup of water in his chubby 9 year old hand. a path unsteady and broken. and him running, running because "mama! mama! i got it! i got it-"  
and like usual, he trips, he falls, the water spills.   
he knows it is a dream, every time, even years and years before. because mingi does not act how 9 year-old-mingi would have. he does not cry, he does not call for his mother. instead he pulls himself up, a herculean effort, because mingi can feel his knees ache and his lungs burn everytime he gets back up. and he gets back up, dozens and dozens of times, until even dream-mingi is crying from the frustration, from the effort.  
because every time he steps carefully down to where the tap is (in the middle of a clearing of trees, with a valve so cold and so stiff that his hands blister on the 4th time), every time he fills the little chipped cup back up (somehow it has not smashed and mingi has learned not to question these things) and every time he wonders and he wonders.   
maybe this is his punishment.  
maybe this was what the pastor at the church kept talking about, hell, with no way out and with no rescue.


End file.
